


Revival

by fucked



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Feels, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Post-Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Pre-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 14:53:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15391179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fucked/pseuds/fucked
Summary: The summer after third year, Harry awakes to find two unexpected visitors at number four, Privet Drive.





	Revival

Harry awoke with a start. A heavy, sickening feeling pooled in his stomach like wet concrete; how long had he been asleep? It was a Sunday, the second Sunday of the summer holidays, to be exact, but that didn’t at all mean he was welcome to a lie in. The Dursleys - his pointy aunt, porky uncle and pig ignorant cousin - would kill him if he slept past breakfast, leaving them to feed themselves, of all things. Panic and adrenaline fueling his movements, Harry swiped his glasses from his bedside table and pushed them onto his face while simultaneously trying to untangle his legs from the bedcovers and dash across the room to his door. It wasn’t an elegant sight - though not very many things Harry did could be described as elegant anyway. 

It was when he reached the top of the stairs, about to descend to the drafty passageway, that he realised what had woken him so sharply. There were raised voices coming from the living room. Three raised voices by the sound of it and, while Harry couldn’t be sure of it, something was telling him the two strangers laying into his Uncle Vernon weren’t strangers at all. Harry hurried down the stairs, spun around the post at the bottom of the bannister, pushed open the living room door and burst into the room.

The sight that greeted him was something close to carnage. Aunt Petunia was stood in the doorway of the dining room, curlers still in her dark hair and a frying pan brandished in her hand. Cowering behind his mother was Dudley, who looked like he was about to pass out with fright. Uncle Vernon was dead centre in the living room, standing next to the upturned coffee table, his hair rumpled and blood gushing from his great, stubby nose. He looked to be in a state of shock, white as a sheet and eyes wide with unconcealed panic. Harry didn’t blame him, because there, holding his uncle by his collar, his fist still clenched from the blow, stood Harry’s godfather and condemned mass murderer: Sirius Black. 

Harry had spent the majority of the past year hating his godfather, wanting him dead for a crime he hadn’t committed. Sirius had been framed by his once friend Peter Pettigrew and, after a chain of very dramatic events, Peter was finally brought to justice. The last Harry had heard, Sirius was on the road to being exonerated. 

“Sirius, that’s enough,” Harry’s eyes darted to the side. In the commotion, he had failed to notice Professor Lupin. The ever patient professor was dressed in a warm looking cardigan and wearing a disapproving frown. Though Sirius seemed to be seething with rage for a reason Harry was sure was completely valid, the wizard let go of Uncle Vernon’s shirt and allowed him to stumble back a few steps into the mantelpiece, terrified. 

Sirius looked at his bloody fist, stretched his fingers out a few times, then rounded on Harry with a warm and welcoming smile, “Sorry about that, Harry. Didn’t see you there.”

Harry blinked, unsure of what to make of all this. During the summer, Harry was always deprived of news from the wizarding world but he was confident that if Sirius had finally been proven not guilty, someone would have made him aware of that development. Surely, Ron, Hermione or even Hagrid would have mentioned his godfather’s release in one of their letters? 

But what if he hadn’t been released? 

Before Harry and Hermione went back in time and placed a note in Professor Lupin’s office reminding him to take his potion, Sirius had mentioned going on the run. He was determined to never step foot in Azkaban - the wizarding prison - ever again. Sirius couldn’t have fled, though, could he? There was no way Professor Lupin would allow him to behave so brazenly. 

Then again, Sirius had just punched uncle Vernon in the face. 

As if reading his mind in that kindly way Lupin always did, the professor smiled and sat down on the two-seater by the window, pulling Sirius along with him, “Don’t worry, Harry. Sirius here is out on bail. The ministry has no problem with him being here as long as he doesn’t try to leave England. Though, I doubt they’d feel the same way about him punching muggles.”

Sirius pouted - actually  _ pouted _ \- and looked down at his shoes. “He deserved it.”

“I’m not disputing that,” Lupin said quickly, shooting a rare dark glare at Uncle Vernon. 

That, it seemed, was the last straw for the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia and snivelling Dudley backed further into the dining room while Uncle Vernon clenched his thick fists at his side. “That is  _ enough _ ,” Roared Uncle Vernon, red-faced and huffing, “I will not have some scraggly looking man and a criminal coming into my home and attacking my family! Out, both of you - or I’m calling the police!”

Uncle Vernon wiped his leaking nose while Sirius and Professor Lupin looked on, unaffected. 

As if not hearing his uncle’s little outburst, Professor Lupin turned his body towards Harry, who was still stood in the doorway to the passage, “We were wondering, since Sirius is on bail and your family is awful, if you might like to spend the rest of the summer with us? Sirius is staying with me during the court proceedings and I’ve just bought a nice little place in the countryside. There’s plenty of space and wide, open fields for Hedwig to explore. You might even be able to get a bit of Quidditch practice in before the new school year starts. Of course, if you’d like to stay for longer, permanently, I mean, that would be okay with us too. We’d be more than happy to have you.”

_ Permanently _ ?

“Jesus, Moony,” Sirius barked a laugh and leaned back in the chair, “you don’t need to sell it so hard.”

Harry had a feeling his godfather was trying to feign nonchalance but he could tell Sirius was eager to hear Harry’s answer, too. He didn’t know why the pair were so worried; Harry would have agreed to live with Annie Wilkes over the Dursley’s, never mind two people he actually cared about and admired. Living with Sirius and the Professor sounded amazing and Harry grinned, his body filling with a level of excitement he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. Sirius had offered Harry a place to stay the night everything unravelled but it was such a far away thought, Harry hadn’t dared to believe he could be leaving Privet Drive so soon. 

“ _ Absolutely not _ ,” Uncle Vernon spat and made for Harry. Sirius got to his feet, ready to throw himself in front of his godson if the need arose; Professor Lupin wasn’t far behind him, reaching into his pocket for his wand. “We have fed you, clothed you, given your ungrateful arse a place to stay for nearly thirteen years. You are  _ not _ about to throw our generosity back in our faces!”

“Generosity?” Harry laughed bitterly. There wasn’t a generous bone in Uncle Vernon’s body. The man was an abusive prick. “None of you can bear the sight of me! Why on earth would you want me to stay? Not that any of that matters,” He added, suddenly surging with confidence, “because I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.”

“So you’re coming?” Sirius asked, beaming with pride. Harry almost blushed under his godfather’s unspoken praise. “That’s fantastic news! We can have the car loaded up in no time. Go pack your things and take them out front. We’ll deal with Vernon here.”

Harry didn’t waste any time and turned on his heels, sprinting back along the passageway and up the stairs. Hedwig, who must have woken when Harry stumbled out of bed, was hooting in her cage and pecking at the bars, “Just you wait,” Harry found himself telling the owl as he opened up his wardrobe and began to rifle through his clothes, “You’ll never have to live in a cage again after today.”  _ And neither will I _ , he added to himself. 

It didn’t take long for him to pack what little belongings he owned. His school books, quidditch things and his photo album were the bulkiest of the objects and he stacked them outside his bedroom door, ready to go downstairs. He didn’t bother with many clothes. They didn’t fit him, being Dudley’s hand-me-downs and he figured that once he was free he would be able to buy some clothes of his own with the wizarding money he’d inherited from his parents. 

Once he was sure he had everything, he picked up Hedwig’s cage and carried her down first. Professor Lupin was waiting by the front door and gave Harry an encouraging smile once he reached the bottom step, “Do you need some help?” He asked and Harry nodded gratefully.

“Please.”

Lupin gave Harry’s shoulder a firm squeeze and made his way upstairs. Harry walked out into the street where he spotted the car waiting on the road. It wasn’t exactly what he had expected. Of all the cars Harry could have imagined Sirius and Professor Lupin driving, a metallic teal Ford Escort was not one of them. Of course, he had never imagined the pair driving a muggle car to begin with, so he supposed he couldn’t be proven right or wrong on that matter, anyway. 

Harry wondered if this one could fly.

The doors and boot of the Ford Escort were all open wide, as if expecting Harry to have a great amount of luggage. If the car had had expectations of  _ Harry _ , it was about to be sorely disappointed. He walked down the garden path and placed Hedwig carefully in the backseat. The first thing he noticed about the interior of the car was that it was incredibly clean and tidy. Harry hoped Hedwig wouldn’t make too much of a mess and told her just that as he pulled away and turned back to the house. 

Both the Professor and Sirius met him halfway up the garden path. Professor Lupin had his books piled high in his arms while Sirius carried his quidditch things and dragged Harry’s enormous trunk behind him with ease.

“Is that it?” Sirius asked incredulously, looking back over the light load before swinging the objects into the boot. Lupin followed suit and placed the books carefully down beside the rest of Harry’s things. The photo album with it’s dancing and moving pictures was on top and Lupin gave it a gentle pat before closing the boot and clapping his hands. 

“Right,” He said and rubbed his hands together, looking around, “I think we’re all set. Is there anything else you need to do before we go?”

Harry looked back towards the house where he’d spent nearly thirteen horrible years of his life. Through the window he could see Uncle Vernon in the front room, yelling and waving his great, club-like arms around his head. Aunt Petunia was trying her best to apply a handkerchief to his bloody nose while Dudley wailed for attention. Without a moment's hesitation, Harry turned back to the men and smiled. 

“No, nothing.”

 

The drive to Devon took three hours by car. Harry let Hedwig out after twenty minutes when she started to become restless and watched out of the window for her now and again. It would have been a much quicker journey if they had taken the floo but according to Sirius, Professor Lupin had recently gotten his muggle driving licence and he was determined to put it to good use, much to Sirius’ amusement. Sirius, it seemed, didn’t think much of the car. He had once owned a magical flying motorbike, something Harry had learned in the past year, and was determined to get it back from Hagrid. 

“I can’t exactly complain, though,” Sirius said, looking over his shoulder at Harry from the front passenger side seat, “since I’ve technically kidnapped Buckbeak. I suppose we’ll do a swap one of these days.”

Lupin, whose eyes were glued to the road, hummed to himself thoughtfully, “I don’t know, Sirius. Buckbeak seems very taken with Pebblebrook.”

“Pebblebrook? Who’s that?” Harry asked, his brows knitting together. He’d never heard of anyone named Pebblebrook and even if he had, he was pretty sure Buckbeak was supposed to be in hiding. While Sirius was hoping to be absolved of the murder of those muggles and selling out Harry’s parents (all of which he did not do), Buckbeak wasn’t so lucky. The hippogriff had been found guilty and sentenced to death. Last Harry had seen of the creature, he was pounding his powerful wings and flying up and over the forbidden forest,  _ free _ . 

“No, no,” The Professor smiled and waved one of his hands, eyeing Harry through the rearview mirror, “Pebblebrook is the name of the farm we- I mean,  _ I _ bought. You’ll like it, I’m sure. It’s not all that far from Ottery St Catchpole, a fifteen-minute drive at most and you could always use the floo if you wanted to visit Ron. Or have him visit. That’s okay, too.”

“Moony,” Sirius apprised, a wicked smile on his lips, “you’re doing it again.”

Lupin sighed and turned off down a gravel road. 

The fields that surrounded the car were luscious and green. Just like Professor Lupin had promised, they were wide and open with clear blue skies perfect for flying. From what Harry could tell by his surroundings, there weren’t any other houses around for miles. If he was careful, maybe stuck close to the trees, he could definitely train up before he made the journey back to Hogwarts. Whoever Wood’s replacement captain turned out to be would be ecstatic.

Beyond the fields, getting closer and closer as the Ford Escort bumped and stuttered along the gravel in jerky movements that made Harry’s head spin and Sirius hold on to the dashboard like some irritating backseat driver, a quaint eighteenth-century farmhouse came into view. Lupin’s financial difficulties weren’t unknown to Harry and for that reason, he had gotten the impression that the house itself would be small. That was clearly a misunderstanding on Harry’s part. The house wasn’t huge, not a rolling manor or anywhere close to the size of some of the houses other wizards lived in, but it was big enough and better than anything Harry had ever hoped to have. The three hours from Little Whinging had done nothing to cement the realisation that Harry was going to be staying  _ here _ . He was going to have a home with Sirius and Professor Lupin, in the Devon countryside with his broom and his friends and Buckbeak the Hippogriff. It was mad! It was insane!

“Harry?” Sirius asked cautiously, his whole body shifted around in his seat so that he could look at the boy more clearly. It was then that Harry noticed they had come to a stop on the Farmhouse’s driveway. “Are you alright?”

Harry blinked and looked back to his godfather. It was all a bit much, a lot to take in. He suspected he’d need to sleep on everything - in his own bedroom, goodness - before the reality of the situation set in. The reality that he was really, truly free.

“Yeah, fine.” He said reassuringly and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

Once he was out of the car, Harry held out his arm and Hedwig swooped down from the heavens to land at the crook of his elbow, lightly digging in her sharp talons. He was about to go around to the boot to help collect his things when Lupin waved him away, clicking it open himself and scooping up Harry’s books. 

“You and Sirius get yourselves in. Go get settled, I’ll handle these.”

Harry and Sirius made their way into the house and Harry looked around in awe. While Pebblebrook looked like any other ordinary farmhouse on the outside, on the inside it was very much a wizarding home. Hung on the walls were moving pictures of smiling witches and wizards who huddled around to greet Harry the second he stepped foot over the threshold; a pot of tea was making itself in the living room and pouring into three awaiting cups that sat on a small table, seemingly of its own accord; in the corner, hovering about eight inches above a comfortable looking armchair that had a copy of  _ The Daily Profit  _ slung over the arm was a fluffy, white, persian cat. The cat had big bright eyes and yawned at the sight of Harry with blatant indifference.

Sirius, who was switching the television on, turned to see what Harry was staring at. “Oh,” He said, with a knowing nod of his head, “Don’t mind him, that’s just Gilderoy.” Then he paused and added: “Don’t ask.”

In recent years, Harry had had the displeasure of meeting exactly one Gilderoy and the whole ordeal hadn’t been something he ever wanted to relive. Eyeing the cat, Harry really hoped the two Gilderoys weren’t in any way affiliated. 

“He’s floating,” Harry said, not wanting to dwell on the cat’s namesake. 

“He likes to be tall,” said Sirius, as if that were answer enough. Harry supposed it was and, as Sirius seemed to be more than happy to ignore the cat, he decided to do so too. 

There was a bumping from behind them. Through the open doorway that led to the passage, Harry saw his trunk, broom, books -  _ everything _ \- go flying at a steady pace through the hall and up a flight of carpeted stairs. Soon, Lupin appeared after them, holding his wand up while absently checking the post. He followed Harry’s flying things up the stairs and out of sight. When Harry turned back around to face Sirius, the man pressed one of the cups of tea into his hand and stood, carrying the other two with him.

“Come on,” Sirius smiled and nudged Harry’s leg with his foot, “Let's go see your new room.”

They headed up the stairs after Lupin and down a somewhat winding hallway until they reached a room with a wide open door, Hedwig nibbling at his ear all the way. The Professor was inside, making sure all of Harry’s possessions landed safely on the cream carpeted floors. Harry stepped inside and immediately widened his eyes. The room -  _ his _ room - was made up of soft colours: cream carpets, gentle blue walls and bedding in whites and calming greys. Above the head of his bed, against the back wall that reached along to a large window, was pinned a moving poster of the  _ Appleby Arrows _ . Harry had no idea how Sirius and Lupin had figured out that he supported them since, for the good of his friendship with Ron, he kept the whole him liking any other team than the disastrous  _ Chudley Cannons _ very quiet. On the next wall, the one that the length of his bed pressed against, hung a collection of different sized frames, all holding photographs of smiling and waving people. There were some of his friends, Ron and Hermione, a few of his teammates from school as well as his dormmates, even a picture of him and Ginny at the Burrow from when he spent the summer before his second year there. Those weren’t the photographs that caught his eye, though. The ones that captured his attention the most were the ones that held his family; his father leaning up against a battered looking motorbike while Sirius lay on the ground, beaming up at the camera and covered in oil; his mother and a few of her girl friends getting ready for a night out; one of his parents, arms wrapped around each other and laughing like there was no one else on earth they’d rather be with. There were so many that Harry could barely count them all and when he looked away, blinking down at the floor, he realised uncomfortably that his blurry eyes had filled with tears. 

Sirius and Lupin pretended they hadn’t seen and made themselves scarce, telling him they’d go and start lunch while he settled in and made himself at home. 

Giving a comforting hoot, Hedwig nudged her soft head against Harry’s cheek then flew off to rest on the writing desk in the corner. That was somewhere he could do his homework, he thought, as he walked a small circuit around the room. His eyes were still a little damp and he wiped at them, trying his best to get rid of the moisture. He didn’t really want to cry in front of Sirius or Lupin, not that he thought they would mind or anything. It was just that this was his first day and he was happy, he didn’t want them thinking that they’d done anything to upset him - which they hadn’t. Quite the opposite, actually. 

Climbing up on his bed, Harry crawled his way to the wall on his knees to get a better look at the photos. There was one close to his pillow that almost called to him; four friends stood grinning at an invisible lens, all hugging together close. His mother’s hair was in a cute, florally decorated braid that fell over one of her shoulders. At her side stood his father, beaming proudly while a young Sirius, with boyish good looks and a killer smile, was holding one of his hands to Lily’s stomach. A rumpled looking Professor Lupin stood on James’ other side, burying his face in Harry’s father’s shoulder, trying to hide his grin. A part of the photo was cropped and the person who had once stood on Sirius’ other side - Harry didn’t have to guess who that had been - was missing. At the bottom of the photo in red pen was written ‘The day we found out Lily was pregnant’. 

Harry swallowed and lifted the picture down from the wall. He sat back against his pillows, cradling the frame in a way he thought his mother would have cradled him, and smiled down at the scene. They were all so happy. They were all so  _ young _ , just children. By the looks of them, they’d only just gotten out of Hogwarts and had their whole lives ahead of them. If only they had known…

Harry put the photograph back. He shouldn’t dwell. 

Unpacking was probably the right thing to do now. He didn’t want to be one of those people who lived out of their suitcase because knowing his own personality type, if he allowed himself one day of laziness, he’d spend the rest of his life like that. So: unpacking. Harry hung his shirts up in the wardrobe, folded his pants and underwear and stored them away in the dresser; he piled his school books one on top of the other inside his desk drawers and propped his Firebolt up in the corner of the room. Hs photo album he left until last, placing it on top of his writing desk where it could be proudly displayed. Sometimes, at night, he liked to open it up and look at the faces of his loved ones - if he did so here, he didn’t want to wake Sirius or Professor Lupin up by clumsily rummaging around in his draws at some godforsaken hour. 

 

Twenty minutes later and Sirius was calling Harry down for lunch. They had sandwiches and juice at the quaint kitchen table. Sirius talked about the prospect of buying some animals, maybe sheep, chickens for the farm. Lupin gave him a look which translated loosely as ‘never going to happen’ and Sirius promptly deflated.

“You only want chickens so you can chase them.” Lupin scolded with a fond shake of his head.

Once they were done eating - and, in Sirius’ case, pouting - Harry helped clear the table and offered to dry the plates which Lupin accepted gratefully. The stress of the past months seemed to have taken their toll on the ex-professor, leaving him weary with too tired eyes. Still, he wore a smile on his face every time Harry looked at him and Harry could tell he was okay - or at least, he would be.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have organised anything fancy for lunch. We didn’t know we were coming to get you until this morning,” Lupin confided, much to Harry’s surprise. Surely his rescue must have been planned if they were able to set up such a thoughtfully decorated room for him? Sensing his confusion, Lupin elaborated, “We were hoping to collect you after Sirius’ trial was over and everything had settled. But, this morning, I sent Sirius over to the Weasley’s for some eggs and Molly advised him against waiting. Your uncle should be very grateful Sirius doesn’t have a new wand yet.”

Harry swallowed. An unarmed Sirius was dangerous enough - that was evident by the state of his Uncle Vernon’s nose - without adding a wand into the mix. He wondered just how much Mrs Weasley had told his godfather. The bars on the window story alone likely would have been enough to move Sirius to act. Harry was just glad Lupin was there to keep him from doing something that could land him in Azkaban justly this time. 

“Well, thank you,” Harry said, the sincerity of his gratitude plain across his face, “This is all…”

He trailed off, unable to put into words the enormity of what their actions meant for him. This would be the first summer since his parents' deaths that Harry could actually feel safe - and the value of that kindness could never be repaid. 

“There is no need to thank us,” Lupin smiled, “As I said, we were coming to get you anyway and we’re very glad to have you here.”

Harry and Lupin finished off the dishes and made their way back into the living room where Sirius was sat in front of the tv, staring perplexedly at an advert for the new  _ Star Wars  _ game. Lupin grabbed the floating cat from mid-air and sat himself down in the same chair that creepy thing had previously been hovering above.  _ Gilderoy _ let out a pleased purr and curled up snugly in Lupin’s lap. Deciding he didn’t quite trust the cat, Harry plonked himself down next to his godfather.

“What’s a TIE Fighter?” Sirius asked, turning his quizzical gaze upon his godson. 

“Um,” Harry paused, thinking. Dudley had never allowed him to watch his videos, so he wasn’t one hundred per cent sure on the specifics. His base knowledge of Star Wars came from overhearing the kids at muggle school gushing about it, and it had been a long time since Harry had been to muggle school, “A spaceship that’s used in battle, I think.”

That explanation seemed to wash over Sirius completely but the man nodded, as if Harry had been at least a little bit of help, before turning back to the television. Under his breath, Harry caught him musing, “What’s a bloody spaceship?”

Over in the chair, Remus was smiling fondly at his housemate. The amusement in his eyes lingered for a brief moment before he averted his gaze to Harry, addressing him, “Is there anything you’d like to watch?”

Having never been allowed to pick what was on the telly in the presence of grownups before, Harry was taken a little aback. He knew he shouldn’t have been, that he knew these two men better, but it was still a little odd to be offered. He supposed that was something he’d get used to in the coming weeks. Anyway, Harry didn’t have much experience with the television outside of the news so he shook his head, declining. 

“Oh good,” Lupin beamed and removed his wand from his robes. With a swish, the remote was tugged from Sirius’ hands and floated over to Lupin, who got more comfortable in his chair and changed the channel, “The soaps are on,” He said. 

 

Before today, Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen Eastenders. He was sort of glad. The characters were all unknown to him and he couldn’t follow along with each individual storyline. Also, he was a little baffled by the fact that  _ wizard _ Remus Lupin enjoyed watching muggle soaps. Thankfully, Harry didn’t seem to be the only one as, beside him, Sirius was miming pressing a wand to the underside of his chin and blasting his brains out. Harry suppressed a grin, watching his godfather splatter himself to the back of the sofa, playing dead for longer than completely necessary. 

“Finally, some peace.” Lupin sighed blissfully, in that way people do when they’re pretending they don’t want you to hear - except, of course, they  _ do _ want you to hear. 

Sirius huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “That hurts my feelings, Moony.” 

“That’s not my problem, Padfoot.” 

Harry watched from between the two as they exchanged tit for tat jibes and insults for the remainder of the omnibus. Sirius would say something childish, maybe a little petty, and Lupin would swiftly return a cool but calculated slight that didn’t appear to Harry for a moment to have any real intent behind it. 

They were like school children, Harry thought, bickering, pulling pigtails. 

It was odd how doting it felt. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written HP fanfiction since 2008, back when I was thirteen and in love with Hermione Granger.   
> I'm still in love with Hermione Granger. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [13birds](https://13birds.tumblr.com/).


End file.
